


never asked to fall from grace

by whitew0rms



Series: i will make you mine [1]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 09:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13995774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitew0rms/pseuds/whitew0rms
Summary: There’s something otherworldly about Brian. Something slightly off, but just slightly, a turn of phrase, or the way he looks in the light, where sometimes, when Pat looks, he swears he sees red. It’s just a trick of the light, he’s sure, or maybe it’s his glasses. Brian says he needs to buy new ones, they’re falling apart, says they’re causing him physical pain. Simone laughs at him. She likes Brian. So does Pat. That’s the problem.Or, there's something not quite right at the Polygon office.





	never asked to fall from grace

**Author's Note:**

> man i don't know where the fuck this came from but here it is. title from sudden death by tyler glenn, which is about losing your religion and moving to LA, and not at all about sucking off a demon.
> 
> Sorry it's short

Pat first notices it on a Wednesday, the day after streaming with Brian, when Brian walks in late to the office, yawning and stretching, his shirt lifting, showing the soft plane of his stomach. The want that hits him hard is not a surprise, how could it be when Brian looks the way he does. The thing that surprises Pat is the shock of fear from his lizard brain, the way his brain screams turn away, turn away, the sympathetic nervous system screaming run. Pat is frozen, a deer in the shock of lights, and Brian looks up from his phone, looks at him across the office, and a smile curves on his lips. He winks. Pat flinches.

There’s something otherworldly about Brian. Something slightly off, but just slightly, a turn of phrase, or the way he looks in the light, where sometimes, when Pat looks, he swears he sees red. It’s just a trick of the light, he’s sure, or maybe it’s his glasses. Brian says he needs to buy new ones, they’re falling apart, says they’re causing him physical pain. Simone laughs at him. She likes Brian. So does Pat. That’s the problem.

They’re streaming, an Assassin’s Creed game, and Pat doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t hate it either, is generally ambivalent. Brian and Simone are sitting next to him, nervous, and Simone’s making jokes about Italians that she probably shouldn’t but will anyway, bad accents get more comments than anything. Simone crosses herself, big and showy, she grew up with a vaguely religious family, and her various obsessions have made her visit more churches than Pat thinks he’s even passed by. It’s not Simone’s best joke, but Pat laughs anyway. Brian flinches, big, and obvious, looks pale, and again, Pat’s nervous system is screaming for him to run. He sits instead, keeps the stream running, doesn’t look Brian in the eyes.

You can buy holy water online nowadays.

The holy water arrives a week later, and Pat brings it to the office in a little water bottle, inconspicuous as he can be, and he pours it into a glass on his desk, sits there and waits, working on some editing.

Around midday, Brian comes and chats to him, talking about ideas for the next stream, maybe something that Pat’s not allergic to. Pat swivels and knocks the water over, watches as Brian swears, jumps a foot in the air.

“Fuck Pat, why the fuck do you have a glass of boiling water on your desk?” Brian yells, stomping off to the kitchen to run his hand under cool water. Pat doesn’t say anything, dips his fingers in the water pooling on his desk.

They’re cool. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tastes the water.

 

Brian leaves the office early that day, begs off, says he’s feeling sick, and Pat feels dread pool in his stomach, knows what’s coming, knows what he’s done. He’s blown his cover. Pat sticks around, streams a bit, chats to people on Twitch, pretends everything is normal, pretends he can’t feel his heart in his chest every second.

The subway ride home feels like it rushes by, feels like he’s being shoved forward by an uncaring universe, to his untimely apartment death.

His mom won’t even find out until Brian’s already burnt Pat to a crisp, and spread his ashes in every ocean.

Pat always knew he was ridiculous but he never thought he’d be murdered by a demon inhabiting the body of a 24 year old twink. This is surely pushing it.

He unlocks the door to his apartment, kisses his cat on the top of his beautiful fluffy head, and walks to his room, taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Brian is sat on his bed, in the middle, his long legs stretched, one crossed over the other, and he’s idly palming through the book Pat had on his bedside table, some true crime paperback he bought on a whim. He licks his finger, and Pat listens to the soft sizzle of spit against Brian’s too hot fingers. Brian folds the corner of the page, and closes it, sits it back on Pat’s bedside table. Pat winces, steps forward, shuts the door behind him.

“So.” Brian says, tapping his fingers against his thigh one by one, but otherwise completely still, completely focused on Pat. Pat doesn’t think he’s ever even seen him blink. He shivers involuntarily.

“So.” Pat says back.

“You’re not going to tell anyone what I am, are you?” Brian says, his tone even, but his eyes seem, desperate.

“What you are?” Pat knows he can’t really play dumb, he spilled holy water on Brian earlier, but he’s not giving any information before he has to.

“You really wanna make me say it, huh” Brian rolls his eyes, crosses his arms across his chest. “You aren’t going to tell people I’m a demon. They aren’t real. You’ll just look crazy, you know.”

Pat hums, shoves his hands in his pockets. He feels more nervous than he felt interviewing at Polygon, but he can’t let it show. He’s always been good at hiding his feelings.

“I feel like, with you, people might believe me.” That seems to shock Brian.

“Really?” Brian raises his eyebrows.

“You have this-” Pat pauses, tries to collect his words. “You have this air about you. Makes me wanna run,” Pat pauses again, makes up his mind. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Makes me wanna get on my knees. There’s something not right about you.”

At this, a smirk pulls across Brian’s face, and Pat can see suddenly, something shifting beneath Brian, otherworldly, and fearful. He swings his legs around, so he’s sitting at the edge of the bed, his hands far behind him, and his legs spread.

“Well, we could do something about that, if you wanted” He’s still Brian, weirdly insecure, but there’s something underneath it all that Pat doesn’t know if he’ll ever understand. Pat doesn’t trust him, but he’s magnetic, and well, Pat never has made good decisions.

He walks over, kneels in between Brian’s legs, and looks up at him. Brian is beaming down at him, and he looks so goofy that Pat almost forgets. Almost.

“You’re not gonna steal my soul, are you?” Pat says, joking, but not. Brian keeps smiling, and he runs his fingers gentle through Pat’s hair.

“Do you want me to?”


End file.
